


love doesn't discriminate

by Cloudnine101



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Alternating, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudnine101/pseuds/Cloudnine101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Hey, Peggy," Angie says, after a while, "this might seem a bit of a - a question, but - was Captain America queer?"</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	love doesn't discriminate

_1_

"Well, isn't this just the prettiest place you ever saw?"

Angie has her feet up on the coffee table. It's been a few weeks since they moved in. The first couple of days were spent testing all of the furniture to its maximum capability. Peggy's not sure whether jumping up and down on the bed was the best plan, considering the amount of stuffing littering the floor. Angie can't get over the softness of it, Peggy supposes, and her heart _aches_.

"It is," Peggy says, humouring her.

Angie looks lovely tonight, as ever. There's a flush to her cheeks from the wine and the dancing. Jarvis had been here before; Peggy had danced with him, for a while, and then all three of them had played cards and talked. Jarvis had been surprisingly eager to get home. It had escaped Peggy's notice at the time. Now, though, she wonders.

"Hey, Peggy," Angie says, after a while, "this might seem a bit of a - a question, but - was Captain America queer?"

Peggy thinks that she recovers herself admirably. While she was silent, Angie had launched into a ceaseless string of apologies, ranging from berating herself and her "stupid brain" to wishing she'd "never moved here, or met Howard Stark, or anything".

"What makes you say that?" Peggy asks.

When she shrugs, Angie seems smaller - almost delicate. Her hair falls in curls around her cheeks and neck.

"Well, the way Howard Stark talks about him, for one. And there is - that other thing. The man you told me about - Steve's friend. What was his name? The solider who fell off the side of the train."

"Bucky," Peggy manages, seeing his face in a flash - a bright smile and dark eyes. "Bucky Barnes."

Angie seems a little sad. "I hate to break it to you, English, but most guys aren't willing to get shot for each other if there isn't _something there_."

"You're not breaking anything to me. He was."

There is a beat of silence.

"Wow." Angie shakes her head. "Seriously? You're not having me on, are you? Because I would be - I'm - "

"They were in love. Steve was - he held attachments for both men and women, as does Howard. Bucky Barnes was a homosexual. He and Steve had been enamoured with one another since they were children. Steve, however, was convinced that nothing could ever come of it - no matter how I tried to tell him otherwise."

"And you? What about you?"

Angie's sitting forward, poised and gentle and beautiful. The wine has numbed Peggy's hands. There's music playing, somewhere. It's a wonderful evening.

"I have fallen in love with men," Peggy says, "and women."

Leaning back, Angie nods. "Right." She swallows. "Well. I do, too. I have, I mean. So there."

"Oh." Peggy rubs one of her eyes with the back of her hand, and then slips off her glove. It falls to the ground beside her foot. She does the same to the other eye and hand. Angie's watching all the while. "Would it be alright if I was to - to kiss you?"

Angie's mouth is wide and plush and red. "I'd be open to it," she says.

 

_2_

Daniel Sousa's having one of the worst days of his life. His coffee's cold, the new boss is a hound from Hell after his hide, and Peggy Carter, for the first time in her life, has failed to show up for work.

"Where the Hell are you?" Daniel leans against the wall. His bad leg throbs. "Everybody's waiting. Thompson's being a jerk. You need to get down here and cover me, okay?"

Somewhere in the far corner of the room, Thompson's head turns. The man's got ears like a bat, Daniel swears. He always picks up on it when you're chewing him out. It's true, though, which is what stops Daniel from feeling like a _total_ ass. He's coming close, though.

On the other end of the line, Peggy's voice is markedly slow. "Just a minute." There's a crinkling - one which can only be bedsheets moving across one another. "What's happening?"

Daniel feels his mouth go dry. "You got somebody over there?"

"No," Peggy says, too quickly. "No, I don't. Why?"

In the background, there's the unmistakeable sound of a snort of laughter - a high, feminine snort.

Daniel can feel a headache coming on already. "We'll talk about this later," he says.

"Sousa," Peggy says, but he hangs up.

"Trouble in paradise?" Thompson asks. He's holding a coffee, which he isn't offering. There's something rigid in the set of his stance - he's smiling, but his eyes aren't quite there. "She'll come around to you. Just wait for it."

"I'm not sure if I want to," Daniel says, and turns away. Let Thompson make of that what he will. Strangely, though, Daniel feels as though Thompson already knows what he's trying to say.

 

_3_

When she finds him, Sousa's sitting in the room on the left-hand side of the entryway. Peggy locks the door behind her as she comes inside. There are a block of filing cabinets against the wall. They wouldn't block her path to the window, if she was to make a run for it.

"Agent Sousa," Peggy says, as briskly as she can, "I can explain."

"I'm sure you can." Sousa's leg is at an angle in front of him. He's got a young, handsome face, and dark hair. "Take a seat."

Peggy does. She folds her hands in her lap in an effort to appear respectable. "I know it's not logical," she says, "and some would consider it immoral. But I - I cannot help the way I feel."

"Agent Carter, I'm going to tell you something that you need to know right now. It's important."

Peggy allows herself to swallow. She forces herself to meet Sousa's eyes. If she's going down now, there is no way in Hell she's going down without a fight, or a good deal of kicking and screaming along the road.

"Agent Thompson's homosexual," Sousa says, "the captain's lover was a man, and I go for both sides of the coin. I'm going to be frank, here - I don't give a damn what tickles your fancy, or anybody else's, as long as the work gets done. Do we understand one another?"

Peggy blinks. "Perfectly."

Sousa smiles. He has surprisingly prominent dimples, Peggy notes, not for the first time. "Then let's go catch a crook," he says.

 

_4_

"You _idiot_." Thompson's pulling off his suit jacket, trying to press it against the blood flowing out of Daniel's chest. Thompson has strong, usually steady hands. They're shaking. Daniel can feel the movement ghosting out across his skin. The air is heavy - it hurts to breathe. "What'd you do that, for? Why couldn't you let me get hit, like I was supposed to?"

"You were gonna get hurt," Daniel says. "Couldn't let that happen."

Thompson barks out a laugh. He presses down harder. "Ambulance is on its way. Hold on for me, buddy. I've gotta buy you that drink. We were going out, remember? You made my a promise."

Daniel manages a cough. "You call me buddy one more time, I swear to God I'll clock you one."

"What should I call you, then?"

Daniel closes his eyes. He's exhausted. All this running around has taken its toll. It's cold outside. He'd do anything for Thompson to hold his hand. It's a petty wish. "My name," he says, "that's - what."

"Daniel," Thompson whispers, breath chilling his lips - it's a bad night not to have your jacket on, and Thompson is missing his, and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. His mouth has turned blue with cold. "Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Come on, Danny. Stay with me. Daniel."

 

_5_

"Is he going to be alright?"

Thompson's eyes are distant. "I don't know. They hit him cleanly. It went right through."

Peggy swears. Sousa's lying on the other side of that wall, she knows, and she can't _reach_ him.

"It was Dottie Underwood," she says, finding a subject onto which to funnel her rage appropriately, "it had to be."

"I don't know," Thompson repeats. The words are rigid. He looks as though he's going to fall down for a moment, before he hardens. "But if it is, I'm going to make her pay for this."

Peggy can't remember a time before this when she was intimidated by Thompson. Even when she was watching him interrogate, it was never him she was afraid of - it was the persona he projected, the man who had it all and who could make you suffer. This isn't an act. This is just _him_.

"I'll call Howard," Peggy says. "He knows good doctors. Don't give up."

Thompson has already gone back to facing the glass. He's holding his jacket in both hands. It's stained with blood in its centre. The arms are falling down around his legs.

"I never told him," Thompson tells the wall. "I never said. Couldn't find a way to."

One of the night nurses looks up. Grabbing Thompson's arm, Peggy manoeuvres him into the hallway, where there's nobody else around. Thompson doesn't seem to care. He isn't with her.

"Stay here," Peggy says. She goes downstairs and buys him a hot cup of coffee. When she returns, Thompson's barely even shifted; he's staring at his feet, chin lowered. Peggy presses the cup into his hands, folding his fingers into place to make certain he won't drop it. "Sousa's a survivor. He'll get through this. We've been in trickier scrapes."

"His name's Daniel," Thompson says.

 

_6_

When Daniel wakes, there's a crick in his neck and one of his arms is on a drip. Edwin Jarvis is sitting at his beside. The guy's reading the newspaper. He folds it up when he notices Daniel stating.

"Ah, Mr Sousa. It's wonderful to have you back with us again." Jarvis's hair is combed flat against his scalp. He runs a hand through it. "You had us worried for a second there."

"Who's us?" Daniel tries to sit up, but finds himself unable to do so. His crutch is propped up by the side of the bed. He makes a grab for it, and finds Jarvis pushing it towards him. "Thanks."

Jarvis's eyes warm when he smiles. They crinkle at the edges. "Don't mention it." He stands, long legs unfolding beneath him. "Mr Stark has had the best doctors available working consistently for you. You should be right as rain in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I've been advised that you shouldn't be dashing off. I'll fetch Agent Carter."

"A couple of _weeks_?" Daniel cries, but Jarvis is already gone - he's trotting down the corridor, shoes squeaking.

 

_7_

"You don't understand. I _can't_ be off for weeks." Sousa's eyes flit around the room seemingly uncontrollably. "This is my job!"

"Yes, you can," Thompson bites, at the same time as Peggy says, "You're on authorised medical leave. You're hardly going to be fired."

Sousa's shoulders slump. Some of the righteous indignation goes out of him. Peggy considers laying a hand on his arm, and decides against it.

"I just wanna get out of here," Sousa says, fist tight around his crutch. "I hate hospitals."

"We'll be with you," Thompson murmurs. "We'll be here the whole time. You don't have to worry. Nobody's going to hurt you again."

Peggy can't help but feel as though she's intruding. Thompson's edging towards the bed. They must both look messes, Peggy knows, but Thompson is the worse mess - he's still blood-stained and exhausted. That coffee she gave him may or may not be the only thing holding him together.

"You promise?" Sousa says, and he probably means for it to sound like a joke, but it isn't.

Thompson smiles. He promises.

 

_8_

When Thompson finally kisses him, they're on the way back to Daniel's apartment. It's a three room affair - bathroom, bedroom, toilet, none of which are in particularly good condition.

Daniel's vibrating in his seat. He's not sure what's about to happen. He's been waiting since that first day at the hospital, but it wasn't as though Thompson could kiss him there - and what if he's reading the signals all wrong, anyway? He's a tired man with an injured leg - not exactly desirable property. Thompson could have any guy in the city, if he set his mind to it. Daniel's sure of that - Thompson may be a suck-up, but he's the best-looking, best-acting, best-smiling suck-up Daniel's ever met.

"God damn it, I can't take this," Thompson says, and pulls over. Daniel's thrown to the side in his seat. He makes a move to get out of the car, and starts to ask what's happening - maybe they're being attacked - but Thompson's hands are on his arms, and then they're kissing. Thompson's mouth rides up over his. It's warm and soft. Daniel thought he'd be a more demanding kisser, but he's happy to take the lead, folding Thompson into him and beaming.

"We should get out of the street," Daniel stammers, after a while. His heart's racing.

"Right," Thompson nods, and starts up again at around sixty miles an hour, careering off down the road. They scream past Daniel's block before Daniel can so much as get his mouth open.

 

_9_

"So," Angie says that night, sprawled out across the bed, "you and Captain America and Bucky Barnes, huh?"

Peggy sighs. Angie's a warm weight against her hip; when she moves, Angie moves with her. Angie's fingers leave hot presses in her side.

"It was one time," she concedes. Angie _shrieks_ with laughter. Peggy hits her with a pillow. 

 

_10_

"This isn't exactly how I imagined it," Daniel says, with Thompson's hand in his own.

"Shut up," Thompson says, and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Wait For It, Hamilton - Love doesn't discriminate / Between the sinners / And the saints / It takes and it takes and it takes / And we keep loving anyway.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
